


Misinterpreted

by Cottontail



Category: Vampire Chronicles - All Media Types, Vampire Chronicles - Anne Rice
Genre: Abuse, Domestic Violence, F/M, M/M, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-13
Updated: 2020-04-13
Packaged: 2021-03-01 17:35:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,074
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23620918
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cottontail/pseuds/Cottontail
Summary: Rose has insecurities and looks to Louis for relationship advice.  She comes to understand every couple is different.
Relationships: Lestat de Lioncourt & Louis de Pointe du Lac, Lestat de Lioncourt/Louis de Pointe du Lac, Lestat/Louis - Relationship, Rose/Viktor
Comments: 4
Kudos: 42





	Misinterpreted

**Author's Note:**

> It has been forever since I've written anything fanfic related, and decades since I've done anything in the Vamp Chronicles fandom at all. If I knew how to find a beta these days I would have. All the old haunts are dead now. 
> 
> This has been repetitively proofed by myself. But I apologize for the times I slip between past and present tense in the grammar. So sorry. That is my main failing. 
> 
> I know a lot of people view Rose as a Mary Sue character. Sorry, but I find her kind of interesting, in that she can be used as an outside observer to the inner workings of Lestat and Louis.
> 
> WARNING: There is discussion of prior abuse and violence and what could be interpreted as PTSD in a character. You've been warned twice now.  
> There are SPOILERS for The Prince Lestat books.

Sometimes Rose thinks Louis and Lestat might be the mirror into her and Viktor’s future. If she and Viktor can make it that far. 

At first, after the whole trauma of her birth into this dark life, she would watch them from the corner of her vision, or subtly listen when they spoke in hushed tones to one another. But it’s hard to eavesdrop on another vampire, especially one as strong as her uncle Lestat. So now she just openly stares. He always inevitably knew what she was doing anyway. He’d break eye contact with Louis and glance at her with a flash of amusement, or just say, “Do you agree, my Rose?” Rose always apologized with a blush, but her uncle would just smile and wink. He knew exactly what her fascination was and enjoyed it.

Louis, on the other hand, never let on that he was aware of her intrusions. He is far too polite. An 18th century gentlemen through and through. One thing that fascinates Rose most is Louis’s ability to remain unruffled. Even in the face of relentless harassment and provocation by Lestat. She supposes that with hundreds of years of practice, the placid, still-waters exterior Louis displays must be second nature. A sort of self-preservation response in the face of baiting flirtation and demands for attention from the great tidal wave that is her uncle Lestat. 

What she’s come to realize is Louis’s relaxed nature has a calming effect on her uncle. She thinks she sees it most in the way her uncle’s usual aggressive extroversion is dampened down ever so subtly around Louis. At first Rose was unsure if she was witnessing this for real or just romanticizing it in her naive 20-something mind. But one evening in the chateau ballroom she sat with several dozen other familiar vampires, listening to soft music and talking in small groups. Lestat was across the room, speaking to a group of younger fledglings. They seemed to be about the same age as her. Rose, being familiar with his temperament, could see the irritation and annoyance he held just under the surface. There was some petty dispute among the young ones and he was not exactly Mr. Patience when it came to these things. Rose thought that maybe Marius would go rescue him, as he was clearly working up to something like an outburst at them; which might lead to court gossip for some time. But then she witnessed in her uncle that softening of edges, and subtle relaxed stance as he glanced over to the opposite side of the ballroom. Louis had entered, tall and broad shouldered, and beautifully dressed in a brushed black velvet suit. An emerald tie pin gleaming at his collar. Again, Rose questioned her own perception of what she’d seen; so elusive was it. Marius caught her eye from where he sat nearby and gave her a small knowing smile. "Tamed, but only just,” he said under his breath.

Rose thinks that perhaps Louis’s unresponsive nature is something he uses to hold her uncle to him. A constant challenge; a prize so hard to win; to get a reaction from Louis. Especially in this time, when so very many other immortals surround them, wanting nothing more than to gain even a glance from the great Prince Lestat. Louis walks about with his nose in a book or focused on any number of fascinating things the chateau has to offer; seemingly oblivious to Lestat’s brilliant light so close by. Or is it just that Louis is perfectly secure in his knowledge that her uncle will always, always return to him. Louis is after all the blood spouse. The first true love. The one who lived that first lifetime with him, and the one who shared a child with him.

These thoughts always bring Rose back to her own role in life. Though she and Viktor have a strong love for one another and they are still so new on the road, will they ever reach that level? Two-hundred years from now, will they be able to read one another’s thoughts without actually reading one another’s thoughts? Will Viktor know from one shrug, or one slight dip of a brow that she is annoyed, amused, indifferent? Will she still find Viktor to be the only one she can tolerate for nights on end? Will they be able to hold that infatuation for one another? Viktor, after all, is not Lestat, though they share the same DNA. Will he also share that same perseverance to chase her through the centuries? Will she even still want him to? 

Ultimately, if she is truthful with herself, she questions her decision to join the ranks of the undead so quickly after they fell in love. At the time it seemed such a sure thing with no second thoughts. Viktor was determined to take the dark gift immediately. Having been raised by blood drinkers, how could he not want otherwise? But Rose, very secretly, questioned her choice. Should they have waited, just as Louis advised? Should they have had at least a decade together as mortals? Had children and petty arguments and all the baggage that goes with being a couple. Is their relationship strong enough to carry them through the ages? Would it have been stronger if they’d had that time as mortals together?

She knows it must be inevitable that they will at some point separate for one reason or another. Will they find their way back to each other? Even looking past her uncle and Louis, to Marius and Pandora, or Gregory and Chrysanthe, there were dramas and long periods of time in which these couples were at odds, or just torn from one another. Rose worries she and Viktor don’t have the same mettle that the elders do. Being pampered children of the 21st century, they have no awareness of hunger, relentless cold, violence and war, plagues, or the constant fight to survive each day of life.

Rose knows it’s a senseless thing to compare one’s own life and relationships to another’s, yet she can’t help herself. She wants to talk to Louis about this again. To talk to her uncle about it. To hear from both of them at once. But she hides this secret unrest, for fear of causing Viktor to worry that she regrets anything. She doesn’t regret. She just… questions. She wants reassurance. But as Louis said before they took the dark blood, you die to become this. He would likely say it again if she brought it up now. They died, and it was final. No tickets back. He’d been very adamant on the point, that evening when he’d visited them in their rooms in New York and had tried so hard to make them understand what they were giving up. 

So Rose watches her uncle and Louis, and hopes this is a window on her future 200 years from now. 

One night, Rose is at the chateaux, in her and Viktor’s appointed suite of modern furnishings. Lounging on the giant overstuffed couch and staring absently at Vampire Diaries on the big screen television. Viktor is in California, with Fareed and Seth, doing science. Sometimes he goes on those tangents of obsessively helping on some research in the labs, only leaving for the hunt and immediately returning after. Rose understands, and she has her own obsessions to fall into every now and then. She loves books and painting and talking forever with elder vampires like Marius or Notker. But lately, when Viktor gets this way, Rose begins to feel like she is in the way. She gets bored and wants to explore, or be with others of her kind. So she came here, to the castle, to visit for a few weeks.

On this night Louis appeared at her door with a soft knock, and she let him in. He is not too formally dressed, which means Lestat did not get a hold of him before he left their rooms tonight. Rose smiles and reaches up, wrapping her arms around him for a loving embrace. He smells faintly of the forest outside and a familiar cologne her uncle Lestat usually wears. He has become something of a second father to her since she joined the undead. 

Louis takes the chair beside the couch and Rose returns to her lounging sprawl and gazes happily at him. He is so handsome and so nice to look at. Sometimes Viktor is annoyed with her when she gets this way around Louis. He calls it the “Louis effect.” Many vampires and humans easily slip into the “Louis effect”. Oddly, Viktor is immune, which Rose finds interesting. How can one be immune to such a striking beauty? 

“What is this that we are watching?” Louis asks, with a slight arch to his dark brow. 

“Vampire Diaries. Don’t judge.” She replies. 

Louis has a soft amused smile and glances back at the violence on the screen, the blue light briefly turns his eyes a breathtaking shade of Caribbean green. 

“Seems like a lot of histrionics.”

Rose laughs at the slight exasperation in his tone, and the way he frowns at the screaming snarling vampire versus werewolf scene on the screen. Louis can use words like “histrionics” and get away with it. Too often she falls into the trap of believing he is in fact a 25-year old; a peer. Then he says things like “scurrilous,” “rapier,” or “a coach and six,” and it’s a stark reality check. He’s well over 250 years old.

“I told you don’t judge.” Rose reprimands. 

Louis raises an elegant hand as apology and gives her another faint smile. 

“It’s comfort TV.” She clarifies. 

“And may I ask why you need comfort this evening, my dear?” Louis asks. 

Rose pauses on an immediate response to that. How much does she want to share? And really, why does she need comfort this night? Because Viktor hasn’t answered her texts since last evening? Because she feels uncertain and childish and, yes, a little fearful lately. 

Is Louis reading her? She can never tell. Probably is, and politely waiting for her to put it to words.  
“It’s stupid and sophomoric and just ridiculous. I’m just insecure. You know?” 

There’s a slight frown on Louis’s face, a small indentation above one brow that appears and smooths out just as quickly. He seems genuinely concerned, and that alone unknots something in Rose. She takes a deep breath, runs her hands back through her hair, and gets distracted by her nails. She shouldn’t put this on Louis. 

Louis is still looking concerned. He pulls his Android phone from his suit coat and says, “Well, if it’s stupid, sophomoric and just ridiculous, I’ll call Lestat. He’s great at that stuff.” 

Despite herself, Rose laughs. But seeing he has the contacts screen already open, she screams, “No!” She lunges for the phone, “Don’t!” 

Louis, holding the phone up out of her reach, feigns confusion. “He’ll have great advice. I’m certain of it.”

“Please.” She says, trying to impart some semblance of seriousness to him, and returning to her seat on the couch, legs wrapped up close to her body. It feels juvenile to talk to Louis about this, but to talk to her uncle about her love life with his son would feel one-hundred times more awkward. In moments like this she keenly misses her aunts.

“Very well,” he says softly, placing the phone back in his pocket. He is a patient saint again, waiting for her to speak.

“Okay,” Rose says, her voice sounding small. She’s examining her glossy nails once more, avoiding eye contact. “So I’m just questioning, you know? I’m just worried sometimes that maybe I’m not going to survive this whole thing. And I don’t want to let anyone down. I don’t want to upset uncle Lestat, or worry Viktor or…” She dares to glance up for Louis’s reaction to these words.

He’s fixed on her like a laser. Listening with every cell of his being. But he says nothing, and Rose feels a need to fill the silence, so she talks more. “What if I made a horrible, horrible mistake, Louis? What if I was supposed to wait longer, like you said. What if Viktor and I don’t last? What if we needed more than just a few weeks of mortal time together? What if I’m not strong enough for any of this?” 

Louis is a statue, watching her. She breaks. “Oh God, just please don’t say, ‘I told you so.’” Her vision tinges red with unshed tears as she stares at him.

The silence is long, as Louis digests all the insecurity she just spewed. She thinks this might be the stupidest mistake she’s made, telling him all this, but she clings to some hope he will have wise words. She wants him to say something profound and amazing and to make it all clear and cleaned up. Take away all the questioning that has plagued her for months now. 

He looks away from her suddenly, takes a long deep breath and lets it out. “Perhaps your uncle would in fact be better for this after all.”

Rose slumps. Somehow this makes it worse. If Louis can’t help with this, then it must be bad. It must require something more than just comforting words from him. Maybe she is seriously flawed and he wants to get some backup in here. How can that be? Louis has always been a savior in her darkest hours. He’s saved her life and given her comfort many times more often than her uncle Lestat has. He was there when she was near death in that terrible school where she was tortured. He was there when Benedict crashed into the apartment in New York and took Viktor with such violence; shaking Rose’s sanity to its core. He was even there to hold and gentle her when Amel was inflicting such torture and pain on Lestat that all the vampires felt it, and she screamed in agony until she passed out in his arms.

How could this possibly be any worse than any of those times?

“Rose,” he says. His deep voice like a balm on her fraying nerves. “This is not a crisis. This is just life as a twenty-something vampire.” She blinks back the tears. He’s on the couch with her now. One arm along the back, behind her, the other hand resting against one of her legs. Encircling her. 

“Were you this way as a twenty-something vampire?” She asks, and immediately regrets the question. Because, duh! He’s got an entire book about it. “Sorry, stupid question.” She covers, and makes a forced frown face at him. Louis laughs. It’s rare to get laughter out if him, and she can’t help but smile back.

“Yes, I believe I went through something like this for about 70 years.” 

She wipes her eyes with the back of a hand. “Well, I hope it doesn’t last that long for me.”

Louis tilts his head endearingly. “What exactly is it that brings this on?”

“I don’t know.” She returns to examining her nails and tries to dig back into her psyche, to find the exact thing that has triggered this existential crisis. She decides to just come out with it. “Do you think Viktor and I will last as long as you and uncle Lestat?”

Louis’s brows knit and he sits back slightly, eyes fixed on her and then glancing away. Trying to think of a proper response, perhaps. 

“I don’t think your uncle and I are a great yardstick by which to measure anything, to be honest.” 

Rose feels her spirits slump again. Not the response she expected or wanted. “But you are both meant for each other. It’s pretty obvious to anyone who sees you together. The whole court knows it."

Louis has an immediate visceral response, but bites it back. Rose is dying to know what it was going to be, and forgets for a moment her own gloom. He glances to the TV screen, but isn’t really seeing it. He inhales and exhales slowly before speaking. “Well, first of all, if that’s the impression we’re giving, it’s entirely inadvertent on our part. Second, I’ll say again, don’t use us as your gauge. We are the opposite of anything illustrating a good relationship. And I can tell you he would agree wholeheartedly.” 

Rose frowns. “But you do know he would agree wholeheartedly. You know him that well.” She points out. “That is what I’m talking about. You know each other well enough to know how the other would respond to anything. You would win the Newlywed game every time, hands down.” 

He looks confused, of course. Rose holds back an urge to laugh. 

“You’re talking familiarity and mixing it up with love.” Louis points out.

Rose mulls this over. Is that what she is doing? Mixing up terminology and causing herself unnecessary grief? 

Louis sighs, looks away, and then back to her. Apparently coming to some inner decision before speaking again. “Rose, what I have with your uncle is cruel and complicated. We are polar opposites in an eternal love-hate relationship. You don’t want that. I wouldn’t wish it on anyone. What you see as ‘meant to be’ is actually a very complex thing. Familiarity; we have that, yes. But with that familiarity comes more. Every word, every gesture, every look, has a layered meaning, spiraling back through centuries of conflict.” 

He pauses again, considering as he watches her. Rose holds her breath. He continues, “I’m going to tell you something. Lestat at 30-something was a far different animal than Lestat at 260-something. Do you understand? Yes, that first 70 years we had our little family and there was happiness, but it was also abusive and controlling and violent at times. I would be lying if I didn’t say that it is firmly ingrained in me to be on guard around him; to fear him first, before any other emotion comes through. It shadows everything between us, even up to this night. I don’t know if I will ever truly get past that.”

She digests his words as if he is imparting some great wisdom that will save her decades of self-doubt. But she also feels conflicted with this new information, which is not really new at all. Just more detailed. She knows uncle Lestat has this past with Louis. She had always told herself that Louis played it up in the interview he had with Daniel. Or that perhaps the publishing company had exaggerated Lestat’s character to come across as more tyrannical than what she knew him to be. But knowing Louis as she does now, this is real. This is something he clearly struggles with, yet keeps well hidden from most everyone. Is their entire relationship just a charade they put on for the court? Is this why he is so good at appearing disinterested, hanging back in the shadows when her uncle is around? Is it in fact a coping mechanism, but not with the romantic trappings she had assigned it?

Louis’s hand is on her arm, and he squeezes it lightly, bringing her back to this conversation. He ducks his head and catches her eye. “Rose, I’m not saying there isn’t love there. There is an overwhelming love between us. There is an undeniable chemistry and heat there. We share too much history for there not to be. Perhaps that is what you and everyone else sees. But I’m telling you, it’s a tenuous dance he and I do to hold onto it.” Louis rubs his forehead with a graceful hand and seems to be gathering confused thoughts. Rose wants to comfort him with a hug but keeps her arms firmly clasped around her knees, against her body, and waits patiently for him to speak again. She wants to tell him this information feels like gold to her. She wants him to keep sharing with her.

He glances at her, perhaps reading her eagerness and realizing he has spoken too much. His very aura seems to compose itself and he is again the familiar Louis in the present moment. “Forgive me for going off on a tangent. This is why he would be better at this with you.” 

Rose wants to argue that point, but also doesn’t want to dig anything else up.

“So, what was your original question?” Louis smiles, and she laughs. 

“Well, now it just seems even more juvenile. I’m a fool.”

“No,” he says immediately, covering one of her hands with his. “You are the furthest thing from a fool I know.” He kisses her temple. “You will be fine. With or without Viktor, you are strong and have a whole community to turn to. That’s where you are far ahead of Lestat and I, or any of the older ones.” 

“It’s just, I wonder if Viktor and I should be on our own. You know, living our own first lifetime together. Having experiences that aren’t centered around the labs or this court or elder vampires always with their watchful eyes. Don’t you think that is what makes a strong bond? Like Marius and Pandora, or any of the other strong couples here? You had it with uncle Lestat, even if it was not always pleasant.” 

Louis appeared to think about her words, and she appreciated that he didn’t just immediately dismiss them. “There are plenty of other examples around you of lasting bonds that didn’t live out a first lifetime together. Fareed and Seth for example. Even Gregory and Chrysanthe. In any event, this seems like a thing you should talk to Viktor about.” 

She can’t help the scoffing sound she makes. “Yeah, if he would ever respond back to me.”

“Ah.” Louis says with a bit too much satisfaction. “The root of your breakdown.”

“Oh my God, you should be a therapist. You got me, okay? He isn’t answering my texts and I’m a dumb girl sitting here waiting for him to.”

He almost laughed again but hid it behind a smile. “Rose, I think you are going to be fine.”

“How can you know?” She asks, beyond any pretense now of pretending not to be insecure over her boyfriend’s failure to text her back.

“I know because Viktor is not Lestat. He is the very definition of goodness.”

And he’s right. Viktor has Lestat’s DNA, but otherwise they share very little in common. He had a very steady secure childhood under the watchful care of three adults. He had Seth always there to tame any childish tempers that might have grown into something more fierce or disordered. He had his mother, who was always caring with him and didn’t withhold her love from him. He had Fareed, a father figure and a mentor to teach him anything he wanted to know. He was a well-rounded adult male, and wasn’t one to stray or lie or do anything unpredictable. And that’s what Rose loved in him most. He was a rock. 

And by some trick of fate or just very bad or good timing on his part, her phone vibrated with an incoming text. Victor’s little icon popped up beside it. “Sorry, love. I’m so swamped in the labs. Call me.” 

Now she does feel a fool. She reaches out and hugs Louis and whispers, “Thank you.” 

“You’re welcome,” he whispers. He sits back and she looks sheepishly at him. 

His eyes dart away from her for a moment and then back. “And here is Lestat,” he says matter of factly. Moments later a familiar knock raps at the door.

From that night on Rose sees them differently; her uncle and Louis. They no longer have that romantic allure, but they do hold a more mysterious fascination for her now. She vows to get the other side of the coin from her uncle one night. She wants them both to be as happy as she is. For now she focuses on her own life and her time spent with and without Viktor has grown only more precious to her. Each of the couples she comes in contact with seem to hold so many stories she could not even imagine, and she and Viktor will have their own stories someday. Maybe not as tumultuous and grief-filled, but that is okay. They are both fine.

Fin


End file.
